Millennium Housemates
by Running For Anothers Dream
Summary: A collection of stories explaining the life of Yugi, Malik, and Ryou, post-Yami.
1. After Hours

A/N: Welcome to my collection! So, some details about this AU may be in order? Yes? Yes.

After having lost their Yami's, Ryou, Malik, and Yugi have moved in together. Ryou is an avid paranormal investigator, Yugi is working on designing a video game, and Malik is simply trying to get by. They are all in their twenties. Everything else will be explained as the one-shots are posted.

Enjoy! And please, tell me what you think!

* * *

"I don't know," muttered Yugi, shrugging his shoulders.

Malik lifted his head up from where it had been resting on the table, staring at him out of mostly unfocused eyes. "What?"

"What?" echoed Yugi, turning to look at the other boy.

"You jus'...you said somethin'." said Malik, lifting one hand up and waving it through the air, wrist limp and hand heavy.

Yugi nodded, and then he giggled. "God, you're really...you shouldn't drink any more."

Lips curving into a frown, Malik tugged the mostly empty bottle of beer closer to him. "Fuck you, Star Ass! If I have to quit drinkin' then so do you!"

Once more shrugging his shoulders, Yugi shoved his bottle towards the middle of the table. It teetered for a moment before falling, amber liquid spilling across the white cloth.

For a moment, both boys simply stared at the quickly spreading mess. Then they looked at each other, eyes wide and shot through with red.

"Ryou's goin' to kill you," whispered Malik, and he could already picture the wrath of their other roommate.

Yugi shook his head, shoving himself and his chair backwards. He stumbled when he stood up but didn't fall, instead crossing the kitchen in several wavering steps. "Nuh-uh. It's you guys's fault. Your the ones bein' weird."

Malik snorted, fumbling with his bottle for a moment before pressing the cold glass to his lips and chugging it down. It burnt at his throat, the skin torn and open, and he let out a heavy breath when it clunked down on the table. "Says the kid who can't even count anymore. Ryou went out, 'member? Said he had shit to do. Somethin' about...plants."

Plants. Flowers. Dandelions. Weeds. Weed.

Ra, Malik wanted a smoke. Briefly, he wondered where he put them. Then, he realized that Yugi was talking again.

"I don't know," muttered the younger boy once more, this time as he rooted through the fridge. "S'probably cleaned already."

"What?" asked Malik, leaning forward. "What's clean?"

There was a moment of silence before Yugi emerged from the fridge, clutching a plastic container of pudding in his hands. "The top one. I said you shouldn't finish drinkin' that."

Pursing his lips together, Malik stood up. His legs felt sturdy and his head didn't spin, which was a little odd because he had already had three beers and should have been past the point of falling on his ass.

Instead, he had no problem crossing the room, reaching forward and grabbing Yugi by the shoulder. "Seriously, Yugi. What the frigg are you talking about it?"

"I guess. He doesn't usually come back 'till mornin' though, remember? I don't know why you're being so weird...you haven't had that much to drink yet," muttered Yugi, shaking his head.

"Me? You're the one being weird! What, are you having a conversation with yourself?" demanded Malik, and in the brief moment between his words and Yugi's, he heard it. Another voice, louder then his own, sharper then his own, the same as his own.

"I guess I'm just going to have to find something else to occupy my time with. You want to play instead, Little Hikari?" asked the voice, laughingly.

Yugi looked unconcerned, merely walking past where Malik stood and over to one of the drawers instead. "Not really. I'm just gunna go...out. To the park, or somethin'."

A chill ran down Malik's spine, his lips curling up into a grin that wasn't his own. His mouth opened, but he wasn't speaking. "Fine, be that way. I'll just find someone else to entertain me until Snowflake comes home."

A body, pressed up against him from behind. Arms wrapping around his chest, fingers running over his arms, moving them as though Malik was nothing more than a marrionette.

As Yugi left the room, Malik crossed it. Opened up a drawer and pulled out a knife, big and large, light glinting off of the metal blade.

"Isn't that right, Cactus?" asked Mariku, running the side of the blade across his hand, Malik's hand, their hand. It left a thin white line behind.

A moment later and that white line ran red.


	2. Water Spill

A/N: I happen to like this one more and more, each time I read it. As I'm only just beginning to venture into the horror genre, I think that I'm doing fairly good.

* * *

A bead of oil dripped down, very nearly missing Malik's eye. He gave a long blink but didn't lower his hand, wrist turning to the side as he tightened the bolt another round. Tried too, at least. It wouldn't move, wouldn't budge, just stayed there.

Stuck.

Like it had been for the last three minutes, and Malik was far past the point of being pissed off.

"Ra fucking damnit! Quit being such a stubborn bitch and turn!" he shouted, using his free hand to slap the underside of the car.

It didn't budge, held firmly in place by the jack wedged closer to the front of the car. His shouts went unheard, drowned out by the sound of lithe fingers running over ivory keys. The gentle tones of the piano were warped though, by the sheer space of the garage and the scratches the no doubt covered the small disk.

Malik wasn't sure where Ryou had picked it up at, but he wished that it would get taken back. Or just thrown out, in the trash where it belonged.

The blond didn't bother to tell his roommate to turn it down though, because Ryou had been very insistant that it needed to play 'at just the right level, for just the right amount of time'. Whatever that meant.

Snorting at himself, Malik tried to focus his attention back onto the stubborn bolt. It still wouldn't turn. The music got louder. Then, it got faster.

What had been a gentle, albeit distorted, tune was now upbeat. The image of slender, tan fingers whizzing across a set of keys came to the forefront of Malik's mind. Each finger moved seperatly, with a mind of its own. Skilled. Knowing.

He blinked, and it was gone. The music was soft again, slow, gentle. Malik decided that he was tired, and it was a trick of the mind. Which probably meant that he should call it day over and head in, before he fucked the car up worse then it already was.

"I'll just come back later," he muttered to himself, moving to slide himself out from beneath the car. He made it three inches, and then his body jerked to a halt, as though someone had just grabbed him and pulled in the opposite direction.

"The fuck!" he yelped, trying again to move out from beneath the car. This time, the force was more than just that. It was hands, curling around his shoulders. A harsh pull had him fully underneath the car once more.

The music had changed, once more fast and rasping. Drums had joined the piano now, and a heavy weight settled in Malik's chest, those hands pressing down against him, holding him still. He couldn't even struggle. Couldn't move at all.

Could barely even breath, because it wasn't just bronze fingers he saw now, but a leering face and half-lidded eyes.

His eyes, staring back at him.

"Oh, look at you. Hard at work, huh? Busy, busy, busy!" cackled Mariku, his mirror image.

Malik opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. A drop of oil fell down, barely missing his eye.

"You look so surprised, Cactus. You look like you weren't expecting to see me!" chided Mariku, and each word came out as a thundering drum, drowning out the paino. "I guess your pills aren't working."

The bolt twisted, to the left. Like it was greased and fresh, not rusted against metal and welded in place.

Each beat of the drum matched Malik's heart beat, rapid and unsteady.

_No, no, please, no,_ Malik tried to say, _get the fuck away from me!_

Another slow twist...and then it was spinning, faster and faster. Mariku gave another laugh, sharp and loud in Malik's ear, and then his words were nothing but whispers, lips ghosting over his neck. "Maybe you should quit taking them."

The bolt slid off, and the cover for the radiator fell away. Water came down on Malik in a sheet of steam and heat. Skin blistered then burst, and a shrill scream pierced through the garage.

After it, the music returned to normal.


	3. GHOSTBOX

A/N:

Elfie - Thank you for the review! While I'm flattered to think you may have thought I owned that Tumblr, I'm not associated to it at all. I'm just very much inspired by it - in fact this chapter here was written in tribute to it. c:

* * *

It was a stupid idea. Doing this, opening the program. Which wasn't going to work, obviously. Computers didn't work that way, opening up entrances into other worlds.

It was stupid.

All the same, Malik found himself sitting down at his laptop and typing in the code.

_initiating_

_download complete - launching GHOSTBOX_

The screen went black, white letters filing across it. Malik's computer gave a low hum, as the program started up.

"This is stupid," said Malik, leaning back in his chair. Light from the computer flickered across his face, turning the tanned skin sickly.

_welcome to GHOSTBOX . By launching this program user MALIK ISHTAR has opened communications to all devices within L ectoplasial meridians. Continue?_  
_Y or N_

Okay. That was a little weird. Malik leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the screen. This was the first time that he'd used the program, had just downloaded it seconds ago. There hadn't been any chance for him to enter his name.

"That stupid kid must have put it in here." muttered Malik, angrily pressing down on the Y key. "Ra forbid Ryou give me something he hasn't already fucking hacked to bit."

_search for entity_  
_by name by type_

Malik paused for a moment, thought things over. Then he clicked on the option that gave him a chance to type in a name - he wasn't about to make this easy on Ryou, the lying little rat bastard.

_enter name_  
_MALIK ISHTAR_  
_Y or Y_

"Oh, that little fuck!" That wasn't even an actual choice! What if someone else had sat down, and was just using his comptuter?

_2 entities located by name MALIK ISHTAR. Specify type._  
_human other_

This time, Malik hesitated. Not because he thought that GHOSTBOX was going to work, not really. Just because he always did, when he thought about his other half.

Then, he clicked on 'other'.

_engage communications with MALIK_ISHTAR(L)?_  
_Y or N_

No, Malik had no intention of speaking with Mariku. This wasn't going to work, so there wasn't any point in even going through with it.

He clicked no.

The screen went black.

Then white.

Then, Malik heard it. That laughter, unmistakable and manic.

"Hello, hello, hello!" called the voice, distant and scratchy. Like it was being filtered through a tunnel, surrounded by electricity.

Malik's chest went tight, fingers curling against the edge of his desk. "What the fuck."

"I can hear you..." came that voice again, but there was less static around it now. "Breathing...talking...thinking...I can hear it."

"What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing here? Y-you can't be here!" said Malik, using his feet to push himself away from the desk. The wheel of his chair caught on a rug, wouldn't move, and the unmistakable feeling of being pinned in place was there.

Like hands, all over his body.

"Did you miss me, Cactus?" asked the voice again, and now it was clear, like Mariku was whispering in his ear.

A shudder ran down Malik's spine, and he shook his head, bangs falling into his face and covering his eyes. "No, I didn't fucking miss you! Where the fuck are you?"

Mariku laughed again, that demeaning, insane sound echoing through the empty room. Every word that was spoken appeared on the screen of the laptop, in black writing. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You only get one question, Mr Main Personality. Are you suuuure that's the one you want? I could tell you so much. About us. About you. Isn't it time you -"

Malik drew back, flattening himself against the back of the chair. One hand flew up, pressing against his mouth, staring at the screen with those wide lavender eyes. "Shut up! Just...go away! I don't need you anymore!"

"How mean!" trilled the voice, then it laughed. "And how predictable! Leeching off of everyone you can until they've outlived their usefullness, and then...you just toss them aside! Like trash! Like a piece of shit! You haven't changed at all!"

"No! I have-" Malik was cut off by the voice, louder now.

"Yes! Yes! Evil, evil Malik! And who knows who you'll drag down with you next? Perhaps..." here Mariku paused, thinking, planning, already knowing what he was going to say. "Your new friends?"

"My...friends?" echoed Malik. It took a moment to sink in. Then he was flinging himself forward, hands gripping the screen of the computer, because Mariku couldn't do that! Not now, not again! "Stay away from them! Don't you dare-"

A sharp bark of laughter, and Malik swore that fingers were brushing against the side of his neck. "Calm down, Cactus. What will they think if they hear you? Yelling in a room all by yourself. Tell you what. I'll answer your question, and then you can go back to playing house. What was it now?"

The screen went black. Then Malik's original question flickered across it, in block letters.

_user MALIK ISHTAR asked MALIK ISHTAR (L):_  
_where are you?_

Then it shut down. The computer just turned itself off, with it taking the only light in the room. And in that darkness, Malik knew.

Could feel the hands, running over his body. Across his shoulders, along the side of his neck, fingers trailing across tanned skin and leaving goosebumps in their trail.

"As if you didn't know." muttered Mariku, breath ghosting over his other half's skin. "I'm right where I've been all along."

"No," mumbled Malik, closing his eyes. "You aren't here!"

Those fingers rested against his cheek for a moment, soft and reassuring. And then they dug in, nails ripping at flesh and pulling it away, blood spilling down tanned skin.

"I'm right underneath of the surface!" screeched Mariku, and then he yanked and the flesh pulled away, all but melting under his touch, until bone was showing, white in the otherwise dark room.

All Malik could do was scream.


End file.
